


Some Hungers Are Never Sated

by imaginarycircus



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Femslash, Meta, Pining, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/pseuds/imaginarycircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline sets Lizzie straight about some things and Lizzie doesn't entirely seem to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Hungers Are Never Sated

**Author's Note:**

> [Succexiest asked for Caroline/Lizzie](http://succexiest.tumblr.com/post/43617806449/i-just-want-lizzie-caroline-fluff-and-or-smut-fic). It's smutty but not fluffy. I hope that's OK. I find it hard to make Caroline fluffy--because I kind of like her edge. ETA: [Succexiest wrote the fic mentioned in this fic](http://succexiest.tumblr.com/post/43774826430/okay-so-cirqueimaginaire-wrote-a-lizzie-caroline). This is like the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.

It's the future and everyone has their happily ever after--except Caroline. Not that she cares. She's found a calm center and accepted that things are as they are. She makes a toast at Jane and Bing's wedding that moves everyone to tears, including the bride's normally stoic father. He cries on her scarlet silk Zac Posen and she gives it away to Goodwill the next day rather than having it cleaned. That was two months ago and she's not sure where she is in her life or what she's doing or where to go. She knows one uncomfortable fact and she'd really rather not think about it, about _her_ anymore. 

It's night. Caroline is sitting out by the pool at Netherfield, admiring the way the light weaves up through the water. Dangling her bare legs in--wiggling them about, but not enough to make a splash. All the other lights are off and everything is lit from underneath by shimmery blue water and pale yellow spotlights. Caroline likes the effect because it shrinks the world down to a manageable size that doesn't make her want to crawl under every blanket in the world and cry. Caroline never cries. 

"Hey, Caroline." It's Lizzie, of course. She doesn't seem to know whether to stay or go and covers her confusion by peering up at the night sky. "It's nice out here at night." 

"Hmmmm." Caroline didn't even hear her step out onto the deck and from Lizzie's rising inflection she's obviously disappointed not to find Darcy. She's wearing a sundress. It's cute in that "I bought this at Target" kind of way. When Lizzie marries Darcy maybe she'll start dressing better, but Caroline doubts it. She's thought about taking Lizzie shopping--sitting in a fabulous boutique, sipping champagne while Lizzie tries on dresses that would do her complexion justice. Even if she could talk Lizzie into shopping she'll never have the fun of taking the dresses off of Lizzie later. The closest she'll have ever come is when Lizzie needed help doing up the last three buttons on the back of her maid of honor dress. Caroline's knuckles had brushed against Lizzie's spine: C6 and C7. She wonders if she'll ever be able to look at a human body and see it as a mysterious contraption rather than a slew of Latin names and parts. Caroline probably should have gone to med school too. She's had to learn everything anyway.

"Darcy and Bing aren't back from picking up Jane yet. There was an accident on the freeway and they're stuck in a two mile backup." Caroline nudges her head at the ground next to her. "Come sit with me. I hear it's a beautiful night." 

She can see that Lizzie wants to say no, wants to run off--run away. Caroline doesn't like to be ignored. "I'll be nice. I promise." 

Lizzie slips out of her sandals and sits, primly tucking her skirt around her legs. She tests the water with her heels before letting her pale legs sink in. The pool is heated and warmer than the night air--night air that Caroline can't smell anymore, even the jasmine, because Lizzie is sitting next to her. Everything smells like Lizzie. She doesn't like the way Lizzie makes her feel, the way Lizzie blocks out everything that is not Lizzie. She is too big and takes up too much space for such a tiny little person. 

"I watched today's video," Caroline says. It had been a total "Dizzie" pukefest. "It's so cute that your fans call you guys "Dizzie." Wow. That sounded super fake-nice even to Caroline's ears. 

"Yeah," is all Lizzie says. 

Then they just sit there and it's awkward. Caroline makes it worse; she doesn't even know if she does it on purpose. "I saw some of the other ship names they have too. Jing. Did you know that some of them even ship us?" 

Lizzie has been spending too much time with Darcy because her chin recedes back into her neck. "They do?" 

"Yeah. Get this. They call us 'Clizzie.'" Caroline laughs. "Isn't that the worst?" 

Lizzie nods absently and Caroline wants to smack her. Would it really be that hard to say, "It's not that bad, Caroline." "I've heard crazier things, Caroline." "I secretly have the hots for you and am breaking up with William Darcy, Caroline. Let's run away to Prague." 

Caroline presses ahead because in for a penny... "They've even written stories about us." She leans in and watches Lizzie's expression go through a series of little jumps and hops. 

"Stories? About us? Like us? Like, you know?" Lizzie is probably going to need some kind of jaw reconstruction surgery if she doesn't quit the Darcy imitation. Caroline presses her fingers into the rough stone beneath her because it's the opposite of how Lizzie's skin would feel. And she doesn't want to want. It's inconvenient. It hurts. 

"Yeah," Caroline says. "I read one. It was amusing." 

"And we..." Lizzie is openly staring at Caroline now and it's like warmth and sunlight after weeks of gray chill. Caroline has lived in New England and Seattle. She knows what that feels like--the sun warming her hair and softening her bones after the snap and crack of sunless cold. 

"Mmmm. In Darcy's apartment." Caroline leans fractionally closer. "In his bed." 

Lizzie does that thing where she pops open her eyes and moves her mouth like she's going to say words, but nothing comes out. In the end all she asks is, "Did he know?" 

"I don't think so, which is too bad. Missed opportunity in my opinion." She's treading a fine line now and if she crosses it there is no way to retreat. There will be nowhere to hide and she'll have to move to Prague by herself. 

"Missed opportunity?" The words seem to come out of Lizzie without her permission. She looks like she'd like to snatch them back. 

"Well. Guys... You know. They have fantasies," Caroline puts on her best California socialite-flake voice. Like she's just entertained and nothing hurts and she'll get a six dollar coffee in the morning and only drink half of it. 

"Oh, you mean--like girls? Together? Yeah. I've heard that from guys before." Lizzie takes that in stride so Caroline pushes a bit further. 

"Have you ever? With a girl?" She leans back because she's too close and she doesn't want to scare Lizzie off. She also needs some fresh air because she is very nearly drunk on the actuality of Lizzie Bennet. 

"Have I ever what with a girl?" Lizzie isn't playing dumb. She wants Caroline to be specific, which is smart. Lizzie is smart. She's not going to tell Caroline anything without clear guidelines. 

"Well, anything. Have you ever kissed a girl? A real kiss." Caroline raises her eyebrow in challenge. Disdain will probably get her more honesty than rampant curiosity. 

"You know." Lizzie kicks her feet in the water. "College." 

"Was there more?" 

"Why do you want to know?" Lizzie is too sharp and Caroline has gone too far. 

"I'm just curious." Caroline leans back to looks at the stars, which you can see a little better here out of the city, but they're still mostly hidden. There's a metaphor in there about how Caroline exists in the world, but she doesn't want to unpack it. She's pushed her luck tonight and so she retreats into silence and lifts her legs out of the water, letting the cool air absorb her attention. 

"Did you?" Lizzie doesn't need to say more. Caroline understands. 

"Yes." 

"Oh," Lizzie says and it looks unfortunately like some things are finally slotting into place like tumblers in a lock. A door that was closed is now opening and Caroline fights down the urge to slam it shut and start piling up blankets. She lowers her legs back into the pool and the water is almost too warm. Bing is like some beautiful tropical fish who can only swim in 80 degree water. Caroline is heartier than that, or so she tells herself. It's not a total lie if you can get yourself to believe it eventually. Truth is fluid. 

She can be on a plane to Prague or Athens or New Jersey tomorrow morning so there's not point in holding back. "You thought it was about Darcy, but it wasn't." 

Lizzie's shoulders twitch and her hands end up fisted in her skirt. The skirt has dark blue flowers along the hem--a hem that Caroline would like to push up with both hands. She would never do that without a clear invitation--without a resounding yes. But she's tired of damming up her thoughts. 

"Wow." Lizzie still isn't looking at her, but that's hardly a surprise. It's kind of a relief. "Does Darcy know?" 

"I think so. I never said anything and neither did he, but he paid too much attention where you are concerned not to notice." 

They fall back into a loud silence. Lizzie is breathing too fast and kicking her legs back against the side of the pool, churning the water so that it laps against Caroline--a poor imitation of a caress. Lizzie's nervous, but that's better than fleeing. Caroline had half expected her to flee. 

It's hard to tell whether seconds or minutes pass. She could use a drink and there is a nice bottle of Cab Franc open on the sideboard--it's had time to breathe and blossom. Caroline shifts her weight to stand up, but Lizzie starts talking. Talking a lot. 

"So they call us 'Clizzie?' That's pretty bad. It sounds like a brand of vibrators or something--doesn't it? Though I guess that's kind of appropriate for female relationships. I mean sure--men use vibrators too, but I think it's mostly women. Not that I've researched it or anything. But I am sure the numbers are on the internet somewhere. Though I'd be careful before I started that Google search. God knows what would come up." 

"Do you want to hear about it?" Caroline asks. 

"Vibrators?" Lizzie sounds shocked. Lizzie is a little shocked. It's adorable. 

"No. The fanfiction." 

"Oh. Um. Sure?" She can tell Lizzie wants to hear, that she's curious, but that she's also uncomfortable, uncertain. Well, Caroline is uncertain too, but like she's going to let that stop her. 

"We were drunk, of course. Because lesbian sex only happens when you're drunk." Caroline rolls her eyes and glances at Lizzie. She's tensed, but she's listening--her eyes on the surface of the water. Caroline presses forward. "We were hanging out in Darcy's bed in San Francisco--or at least his bed in the story, because he had frette sheets and that's ridiculous because William Darcy would never buy sheets that need to be dry cleaned." 

Lizzie nods in agreement. 

"We started a tickle fight and were rolling around laughing and then we were kissing. Apparently you taste like mint and honey. Did you know that?" 

Lizzie shakes her head, but she's otherwise still. Caroline hopes she's riveted and not rigid with dismay. 

Caroline tucks her hair behind her ear and lets her hand flutter back down close to Lizzie's skirt, but not touching it--not quite. It's cotton--nothing special--but it's nestled against Lizzie's skin, warm from her body--steeped in her scent. Lizzie watches Caroline's hand carefully, but she doesn't look wary so much as focused. Maybe that's wishful thinking. 

"Then what?" Lizzie says a little too loudly and clears her throat after. 

"I peeled your clothing off slowly and kissed your eyelids, your cheeks, your neck, the dip behind your collarbone, your stomach and all the way down to your toes--my hair trailed over your skin and made you shiver."

Having this conversation was like walking on a glacier--you have to test every step beforehand in case you put your weight on a thin patch and fall into a crevice and die alone and freezing. Caroline had never walked on a glacier personally, but she reads. Lizzie doesn't get up. She doesn't do anything--so Caroline proceeds. 

"You got a bit bossy at that point and made me take off my clothes. I liked it--in the fic, I mean. Though I'm sure it would work in real life too." Caroline is brave most of the time, but not in that moment. She keeps her eyes on her knees. She has nice knees--not too pointy and not too round. Lizzie's knees are a bit sharp, but Caroline has never seen prettier ones, ones she wanted to run her lips and fingers across more desperately. 

Lizzie is still. Caroline wonders if she's breathing and watches for a moment until she can make out the subtle rise and fall of Lizzie's diaphragm--pulling down--expanding her lungs. She can picture Bing's anatomy text books all too clearly. She doesn't regret helping him study, but it's weird that she can picture what Lizzie looks like inside, under her skin--she's all vicera and blood like anyone else. Except she's not like anyone else. No one else makes Caroline want to scream and hide under blankets because she's not allowed to touch her, to watch her wake up in the mornings, to make her toast and tea, to pick her up at the airport, or drive her to doctor's appointments. There is a whole life that she craves and she might have this moment, but she'll never have that life. It's like a live coal burrowing into her, sticking and not dropping away. 

"Did we?" Lizzie doesn't sound breathless or like anything really. Caroline can't lie to herself about that, but still, Lizzie is curious enough to ask. On some level she likes hearing about this and that's something--however paltry and pathetic. Starving people don't turn up their noses at whatever is offered to them. 

"Oh, yes." Caroline can't help dropping her voice to a sultry whisper and leaning toward Lizzie so that her breath ghosts over Lizzie's exposed shoulder. Lizzie is looking at her now--watching her mouth--and it's not a kiss. It's nothing like a kiss, but it feels like more than nothing. "I hooked my thumbs into the sides of your underwear--which were dark green satin, in case you were wondering. Fic writers seem to like you in green--I guess with your hair it makes sense. 

"I explored you with my hands, my fingers trailing everywhere and slipping inside you. I hadn't taken off your bra, but you did. You took it off yourself. And God you were beautiful. I flicked my tongue against your nipples until you bucked into my hands and mouth. We kissed and I Iicked your lips, which made you wetter. Then I put my head between your legs and ate you until you came hard and long with your hands tangled in my hair." 

"Oh." Lizzie's face is beyond flushed. Her hair is escaping its elastic. "Um. Did I return the favor?" 

Caroline smiles, but before she can tell Lizzie that she did more than that--they hear the car doors shut and Bing laughing at something Darcy said. Before Lizzie can spring away like a frightened Gazelle, Caroline adds, "Lizzie. Don't worry. I get it. I know you love him. I'm leaving in the morning anyway." 

"Where are you going?" Does she really care? Caroline wants her to, at least a little. 

"I don't know. Maybe Prague. Maybe Tokyo." Caroline scratches at what might be a bug bite on her thigh. Something flutters in her chest when she notices Lizzie tracking her movements and Caroline Lee is not a high school girl with her first crush so it's ridiculous. She has to leave. Tomorrow. But she doesn't actually want to. 

"You don't have to--" Lizzie starts to say, but Darcy makes his way out to her and takes her away before Caroline can do more than nod. She watches the easiness between their bodies, the way his hand slips into hers, the way his lips drop a kiss on her temple--all patterns established by familiarity. Whatever Lizzie was going to say--it doesn't matter. Caroline has to leave. She grabs the bottle of wine, not bothering with a glass, and heads to her room. There is a seven am flight to Olso and and a six-thirty to Rome. Neither has a business class seat open, but if she waits for the ten am flight to Paris--she'll have to have breakfast with Lizzie--or worse, Lizzie and Darcy. Rome it is--and she'll sit in coach to get away sooner.


End file.
